Truth Exuded
by le moulin
Summary: It's 1880, and young Bella Newton’s life seems just set to begin; with her new husband, her family, her closest friends, and her blurred-line ideas of social class, will she be able to resist Edward, her intriguing, young coachman? AU/AH.
1. Prologue

To **noctems**, for being the greatest fan of my life (queue Edwin McCain), for the research help, and for making me smile when the whole world's bringing me down. To **vanilladoubleshot,** for being an enthusiastic support, for bringing me laughter, and for helping me live in the 1800s. To **windtrails,** for the epic writing discussions and serenades, the encouragement, and the fiercest friendship. - You three are the most incredible betas, and world famous friends. I'm so happy to have you along for the ride!

Special thanks to **contreplongee**, for letting me live in her soul and for her help with this summary; I may just use that first one someday… Thanks also to my dear friend Michelle, who has enriched my life in ways she could never know.

To **you** who are reading this, thank you! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing and I'm making no profit by writing this story - I'm not even paid in gum. All recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, its just their manipulations and the world I've set them in, that I claim as mine.

***

_Everything about this was wrong. The feathering of his calloused fingertips and weathered knuckles up her spine and across her ribcage. The tug of her bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue sweeping across the swollen flesh in a tandem, soothing pattern. Her quiet gasps for air, the oxygen leaving her lungs in shallow, wanton breaths against his mouth._

_Nothing about this could be more right. The warmth of his chest brushing against the bare skin of her own. The pressure of his hips against her thighs. The tiny beads of sweat she could feel prickling just below her hairline at the nape of her neck._

_"Are you ready?" His gentle, lilting voice broke through her thoughts, and with a brush of her palm across the damp skin of his forehead, she thought once more of all she had to lose. And all she stood to gain._

_Nodding, she met his gaze, "Yes."_


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing and I'm making no profit by writing this story - I'm not even paid in gum. All recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, its just their manipulations and the world I've set them in, that I claim as mine.

***

"Your travel luggage arrived earlier, Ma'am, all of your things were put away."

Nodding politely in acknowledgement at the housekeeper addressing her, the young woman took in her surroundings.

The house had been decorated, no doubt at the orders of her new mother-in-law, if she recognized the taste. The spacious foyer in front of her featured a prominent winding staircase, and a stunning crimson and ivory-fringed carpet that covered much of the newly tiled floors. There were long tables with elaborate runners, and the sun shining through the half-dozen front windows glinted off a bust in the corner.

Off to her left she could see the parlor, with its settees, wing-backed chairs, portraits, and vases. She smiled at the thought of changing flowers to suit the seasons, and of all the new eyelet lace she had purchased that would drape nicely along sofa and chair backs. She could see the corner of a piano and the obvious display of she and her husband's engagement daguerreotype on a side table. Stacks of books lined a bookshelf that she could just barely see, and the silver candlesticks her dear cousin had given her as a wedding gift shone proudly from atop the mantel of a large fireplace.

Comforted by the only familiar thing she had seen, save for her own print image, she turned her attention to the older - though not by many years it seemed - woman who stood quietly awaiting her instruction. Her smooth black hair was pulled back and up into a braided bun, and despite the drab grey of her woolen dress, her darker skin seemed to glow. Her features were kind, and there were laugh lines around her eyes.

"You said my things have been put away?" Realizing she didn't even know where her own bedroom was, she bit down nervously on the side of her cheek before continuing, "Could you show me to my room?"

Leah, as she remembered the housekeeper's name to be, smiled softly in understanding and nodded, "Right this way, Ma'am."

Time seemed to pass quickly as she took inventory of her belongings; along with her travel luggage, many of her things had arrived from her father's home over the month she was away. While fingering through the dresses and bodices in the large closet-room full of her clothes - new and old - she pressed her cheek to the sleeves she could recognize, eager to absorb whatever lingering essence of her old life she could through her pale skin.

The master bedroom was larger than she had expected, even in the sprawling house her husband's family had so generously provided for them. Her father's home was nearly twice the size, yet as she looked around at the fireplace, the chaise longue with its stunning embroidery, the beautiful paintings that featured the outdoors in spring, the two closet rooms, her own that she'd emerged from, the other being home to her husband's clothes, she decided the room was luxurious enough to warrant mention in the same breath as her parents' own. It was sparsely decorated, at least in comparison to the rest of the house she had seen, and she was glad for the opportunity to personalize the intimate space. Noticing a window on the east side of the room, she felt an ease of tension in her neck as she imagined waking to the early morning sun spilling across her face.

With that thought, she allowed her gaze to linger on the large bed in the center of the room. Gilded rope hung stately from the four posts and the mattress was adorned with a blue, intricately woven, summer coverlet over a thin, cream-colored duvet. Plump feather pillows were smoothed to perfection and just begging to be mussed; she felt the exhaustion of her travels fully then, and her body ached to bury itself into the soft down.

Before she could, Leah, who she had learned was daughter of the cook and sister and cousin to other members of the staff, returned to help her change from her traveling clothes. After helping her strip of her travel ensemble, its stiffly starched material dusty and stifling, and helping her into fresh stockings and shoes, she began the arduous task of dressing her.

"Will your husband be joining us soon, Ma'am?"

"Please, call me Bel-" Gasping as Leah pulled the laces of her fresh corset, she exhaled her words on a quiet moan, "la. Bella. Call me Bella."

"I'm afraid I could ne-"

Cupping her throat with her left hand, Bella waved at the other woman with her right.

"I really must insist, if you are uncomfortable, at least address me as Miss Bella. But please, use my name." Trying her best to look stern, which she felt she succeeded at as the last tightening pull at her waist stole her breath, Bella closed her eyes, "And to answer your question, my husband had to stay in New York for business, he'll return the end of the week."

"Yes, Ma- Miss Bella." Leah returned to silence, and though she was pleasant, Bella longed for the familiar company of her attendant, Angela. She had insisted Angela accompany her to this new house, and while there had been an argument, she had come out victorious.

Or so she had thought. She would have to ask about the younger girl's whereabouts before the day was done.

"This is a lovely ensemble you've picked, Leah." Bella whispered, her hands brushing down the waist of the delicately boned, pale-pink bodice and across the front of the simple, yet elegantly detailed, sheer-brown skirt the older woman had dressed her in.

"Made lovelier by the wearer, no doubt." Pushing Bella gently to stand in front of a full-length mirror, Leah smoothed the skirt around her thighs.

"Well, thank you." Studying herself in the mirror, Bella still couldn't get used to the reflection she saw. Her dark hair, while having come a bit undone on the train, even beneath her hat, was pulled up in a mess of loose curls, a few shorter ones hanging just around the side of her face. Her face was rosy; the exertion of being re-corseted rushing blood to the apples of her cheeks, and her nondescript brown eyes stared back at her, wide and anxious.

However, it was her thin torso, pressed into a dainty hourglass shape beneath bone and tight fabric, her made-to-look-full hips under layers of petticoats and skirts, that brought her hands to her chest.

It wasn't long ago she'd still dressed in the more lightweight, less cumbersome dress of a young girl, spoiled by her father and kept from the ridiculous corsets and bustles her mother insisted she wear. She was just eighteen, but the girl looking back at her was no longer a child; she was a young woman, and a _married_ one at that.

Pulled from her reverie by a clearing throat in the doorway, Bella glanced at Leah before turning to the new presence. Upon seeing the face of the newcomer, Bella's heart leapt in her throat.

"Angela!" Opening her arms, she felt tears prickle her eyes as Angela rushed forward into them. "Oh, Angela." Pressing her face briefly into the familiar scent of Angela's shoulder, Bella remembered Leah and pulled back, keeping one of her attendant's hands clasped in her own.

"Welcome back, Miss Bella." Angela's sweet voice was like music to Bella's ears, and she blinked to keep tears from actually spilling from her eyelids.

"Leah, this is Angela, my attendant." Squeezing Angela's hand tightly, Bella waved in Leah's direction. "Angela, this is Leah, she's the head housekeeper. Her mother, Sue is the cook. Other members of her family serve the house as well."

"It's nice to meet you. My own mother was Bella's governess. She mostly takes care of my little brothers now, though she helps attend to Bella's mother, and my father is head butler for the Swans." Angela spoke of her family with pride, and squeezed Bella's hand in return.

Bella beamed fondly at the mention of her former governess; growing up with Angela had made her more like a sister than a member of the help. In fact, members of the Weber family had served the Swan family since her great-grandfather was a boy – the fondness and loyalty between the two families ran deep.

"Hello." Leah nodded politely, and Bella took stock of the discomfort that had set in the purse of her lips. "I should see to other business now that Angela has arrived, if that suits you Miss Bella?" Leah appeared anxious to be dismissed, and Bella obliged.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Leah." With a quick head bow, Leah rushed from the room, and making a mental note to try to get to know the housekeeper better, to assure Leah comfort in her presence, Bella focused her attention back to the girl beside her.

"I was going to inquire about you before supper." Pulling Angela to her for another tight embrace, Bella sighed. "I couldn't stand not having you with me, one month was far too long. My attendant in New York was an old, highly disapproving woman."

"Dear Bella, I think I should have begged to be sent here, even as the lowest in service, had Jasper not collected me this morning." Brushing a curl from Bella's cheek, Angela pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Mama was positively sick of me, she had me helping Mr. Banner in the gardens to keep me from moping doing housework."

"I can just imagine. I'm sure he was pleased to be subject to your moods." Laughing, Bella ran over her friend's words again in her mind. "Wait, Jasper collected you this morning? Is he still here?"

"Oh, yes! I was so happy to see you I forgot; I meant to send you down to him. He's waiting for you in the parlor." Bella's chest swelled. Angela grinned and cupped Bella's face. "I'm going to go and settle into my quarters. I'll come down and find you later, or let me know if you need me."

"I have so much to tell you, Angela." Leaning into the warmth of Angela's palm for a moment, Bella started towards the door. "I'm so glad you're here." Searching the long corridor for the top of the stairs, Bella walked towards them.

Jasper, her Jasper, was in the parlor waiting for her. More than Angela, even more than her own parents, Bella had missed him. Heart pounding with anticipation, she did her best to walk slowly down the stairs; tripping on her skirts and humiliating herself in front of the staff on her first day in this house did not bode appealing.

The sound of her shoes on the ornate floors muffled by the carpet, Bella reached the entry to the parlor, grateful that the man waiting for her had not been alerted to her coming. She knew a month was not long enough for a person to change drastically, but as her eyes roved Jasper's handsome face, his blonde hair combed neatly, curling slightly at the ends, his thin but muscular frame fitted nicely in a light grey sack suit, a matching bowler hat resting on his left knee, Bella felt as if they'd been apart for years.

"It's incredibly impolite to stare, Isabella." His voice, full of mirth, washed over her like warm sunlight, and the tears she'd kept at bay at Angela's appearance, rolled down her cheeks. He was to his feet immediately, and before she knew she was moving, Bella was seated beside him on one of the sofas. "There now, Lala, I know I'm devilishly handsome, but there's no need for crying." His use of the silly nickname he'd kept from the days when his boyish tongue stumbled over 'Isabella' brought the onset of more tears, and Bella shook her head.

"I want to go home, Jasper." She hiccoughed, taking the handkerchief he held out from his suit pocket.

"Ah, Bella. My dear friend, you _are_ home." Jasper patted her hanky free hand between his two large ones, and brushed at one of her tears with the knuckle of his thumb. "I know things are new, but you'll come to feel comfortable here. You only just arrived back from your honeymoon today, after all."

"I miss my real home. It's completely impossible that I'm a married lady, Jasper. I feel like a lost child." Sniffling, Bella ducked her head in embarrassment at her admission.

She hated the vulnerable feeling of being completely unaware of the life that stretched before her. Sure, she could be certain of luncheons and letter writing, visits from her mother and friends here in this very parlor, and there was the charity society she had determined to volunteer at, but she didn't know the first thing about being the lady of a household, or being a wife. Her own ideals about the institution of marriage had mattered little when it came to her nuptials, and while her mother had tried to prepare her for the imminent responsibilities she would face, and even after the month she had spent with her new husband in New York, Bella felt the enormity of adult womanhood acutely.

"Michael will be home soon," Taking his handkerchief to wipe her cheeks, Jasper smiled in encouragement, "and then you'll settle. He's going to be a good husband, Bella." There was no hint of pity or insincerity in her friend's voice, and Bella took a breath to relax her tired lungs.

"He is." She conceded, returning his smile. "He's a good man; you should've seen the way people respect him in the City. I expect the praises here, everyone knows the Newtons, but even way off in New York…" Bella's voice trailed off, and she curled her fingers around Jasper's hand that still held hers.

"I know this isn't how you wanted things, necessarily, Lala," Tightening his hold around her fingers, Jasper brought them up to rest against her heart, "but you're going to be happy. You're Isabella Marie Newton, nee Swan, and you're the breath of fresh air that society needs around here." Winking, Jasper chuckled. "Even if you still have yet to convince Mrs. Stanley."

"You're ridiculous," Bella felt all her anxieties fade as she and Jasper settled into their easy rapport. He had always been able to calm her, even as a child when shadows in the ominous Governor's mansion they had grown up in had frightened her terribly. No one, not even her doting father, could quiet her soul the way the man beside her could.

They discussed her time in New York, or, rather, the _tourist_ parts of her time there, her cheeks flushing at his hint at her newly realized private life. He told her of the happenings around town, offering news of her parents, though she had received a marconi wire from her mother just two days prior, and Bella was pleased to hear that Jasper's wife, Alice - her cousin - was well.

"Alright, well the wife ordered supper for five, and if I'm to make it home on time, and survive the evening unscathed, I need to leave you now, my Bella." Keeping her hand on his arm as he led her from the parlor, through the foyer and out into the late afternoon summer warmth, Jasper leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you for bringing Angela to me." Bella thanked him, remembering that even as Jasper left, her quiet attendant would remain.

"It's so good to have you home, Bella." Jasper's whisper promised comfort, and Bella couldn't stop the childlike giggle that escaped as she watched her dearest friend tip his hat off his fingers, before catching it to set it atop his head as he walked towards the stables.

He was right, this was her home now, and even though the rooms lacked the warmth and familiarity that her childhood home exuded, she would think of it as such.

"Jasper!" Lifting the hems of her many skirt layers once again, Bella took a few steps in his direction. He stopped and turned, and at the raise of his eyebrows, she dropped her skirts and hurried on, "You'll send Alice to visit soon, won't you? Tomorrow?"

"As if I could keep her from you," Laughing heartily, Jasper nodded, "I'll send her first thing, you know she'll want to know all about the latest Big City fashions, and of the more…intimate details."

"I've missed you." Pressing her own hand over her heart this time, Bella's heart swelled as Jasper returned her gesture. She watched as he walked away, a ridiculous dance in his steps.

"Bella?" Angela's quiet voice called to her from the doorway, and with a final deep breath, Bella set her jaw and turned on her heels to return to _her _house.

Her new life was about to begin.


	3. Chapter 2

Much love to my betas, **noctems**, **vanilladoubleshot**, and **windtrails**. You ladies are making this entire process so much fun! Thank you first for your friendship, and then for your support and your watchful eyes. Special thanks also to **poppypickle**, who lent her time and her eyes, and helped my reallylongsentences take on some reasonable structure. ;)

Thanks to **Michelle** for everything, and to **Ashley** for being 'queen' of the lab.

To each of **you **who have favorited this fic/me, put it/me as an author on alert, and/or who've taken the time to review - thank you so much! I'm really humbled by the response I've gotten so far. You all are lovely!

**Disclaimer**: Stephenie Meyer wears really bright lipstick and can afford my whole life. I wear Burt's Bees lip balm and paid for my dinner entirely in quarters.

***

Much to Bella's delight, she found herself roused in the morning – as she had hoped – by a warm strip of sunlight across her side of the bed. Angela was quietly moving about the room, and Bella yawned and stretched, curling her toes into the mattress as she sat up and brought her knees to her chest beneath the covers.

"Good morning, Bella."

Noticing the wisps of steam rising from a pitcher on her dressing table, Bella hugged her knees before pushing away the duvet and dropping her legs off the side of the bed. A pair of slippers awaited her bare feet, and she finally spoke, "Good morning."

"I ordered breakfast for seven, as we discussed last night, and I told Cook that you'd send times for dinner, tea and supper. I also told her you may have a guest for dinner, if Miss Alice stays." Angela informed her, pouring the steaming pitcher of water into its washbasin and draping a facecloth over the edge.

"That's perfect, Angela. Thank you." Smiling around another yawn, Bella untangled her legs from the thin layers of her summer nightgown, tossed her hair – braided for bed – over her shoulder, and made her way to the cushioned stool by her dressing table. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she dipped her fingers into the hot water in front of her.

"I'll let you wash up." Giving Bella's shoulder a gentle squeeze, Angela headed toward the door, "I'll be back in a few minutes to help you dress. I've set your under clothes just there," Gesturing to the drawers, stockings and chemise laid across a chair near where Bella sat, Angela grinned, "and there is a new bodice in your closet that I cannot wait to dress you in, Bella."

Bella shook her head as the other girl excused herself from the room, and soaked the awaiting facecloth in the basin before wringing it out and bringing it to rest warm against the side of her neck. It was wonderful what a night's worth of sleep had done for her anxious thoughts. Bella relished the thought of seeing Alice after breakfast as she pulled loose the strings at the neck of her nightgown, a trail of warm water running down her palm

She washed up quickly, shedding her now damp sleepwear for the intimates that Angela had readied. After donning the black stockings and loose drawers, she fingered the lace around the hem of the chemise before slipping it over her head and fitting the tiny pearl button through its corresponding loophole at her collarbone. Massaging her sides through the comfortable cotton, Bella took her last unlabored deep breaths before Angela returned to corset her just moments later.

The bodice Angela chose was a lovely shade of light blue, with matching pearl buttons at the wrists and down the front. Bella decided on a chamois brown skirt, loathe to be adding another layer to the petticoats and black underskirt she was already wearing.

"I will be so glad when the bustle goes out of fashion." Bemoaning the pad of fabric tied around her waist to give shape to the back of her skirt layers, Bella leaned on Angela as she helped her slip into her ankle-high shoes.

"I don't begrudge you the style at all." Due to the work she was often required to do, it was impractical for Angela to indulge in that particular vanity. Motioning for Bella to once again sit at her dressing table, she brought out a brush to set about the task of brushing and styling Bella's near waist length hair.

"They're simply ridiculous," Bella murmured, closing her eyes; having her hair brushed, whether by Angela or on her own, was her favorite part of the morning and evening routine.

After her hair was sufficiently brushed until it was shining and soft, Angela pinned it up in loose, wavy layers, leaving a slight poof in the front, and allowing a few tendrils to fall and frame Bella's face.

"There," Setting Bella's brush near the washbasin so she'd remember to wash and rinse it, Angela stepped back as Bella stood to gaze at her reflection in the full-length mirror near the closet. "You go on down for breakfast now, Bella."

"Thank you, Angela." Meeting the younger girl's eyes in the mirror Bella smiled.

It was time to face her first full day here as Mrs. Michael Newton.

* * *

The fresh bread, hot cakes, boiled eggs, and fried ham that Sue had prepared and served were cooked just to Bella's liking, and she was embarrassed by the ravenous way in which she finished everything set before her; she hadn't even left the edges of her bread. Her nerves had kept her from eating much at the previous night's supper, even after Jasper's visit and her new found resolve, and apparently she was hungrier than she realized.

"More bread, Miss Bella?" Emily queried as she refilled Bella's glass with fresh squeezed orange juice and balanced her now empty dishes in her free hand. Bella had been quick to prompt Emily to call her by her first name, and she smiled at the more informal address.

Feeling the extra tightness behind the corset at her waist, Bella shook her head, rubbing the front of her bodice lightly, "I'm full to bursting, Emily. Thank you." Sipping at her orange juice, Bella sighed and looked around the dining room.

It was decorated in similar fashion to the rest of the home, with paintings and fine furniture surrounding the modest table she was sitting at. Bowls with bright red apples called to Bella from the far end of the room, and her full stomach groaned.

"I'm going to become a barge." Laughing quietly to herself, Bella finished her juice and excused herself from the table to wander her new home.

Breakfast was long since over, and most of the entire lower level of the house searched, when Bella began to wonder if Jasper had forgotten his promise to send Alice to her first thing. Meandering back into the foyer, she decided to give herself a tour of the upper level, when the telltale sounds of a horse and carriage sounded through the open windows.

"Alice!"

Of all the words Bella'd ever heard to describe Alice she wagered that 'dainty' suited her physical appearance best. However, as she made her way down her front steps to greet the _dainty _Alice Whitlock, the lady in question rose to her feet – in the still moving, open carriage – and waved her _dainty_ arms in Bella's direction.

"_She's an effulgent force of nature, that young niece of mine." _

Recalling her father's fond assessment from their childhood, Bella wagered they suited her cousin's interminable gaiety, and she couldn't suppress the affection that spilled from her mouth as laughter.

Alice's eyes widened as she realized her un-ladylike behavior, and she sat quickly, her lips pursed apologetically for only a second before pulling into a wide grin as the carriage came to a halt. She remained seated, patiently waiting for her driver to extend his hand to help her down. From the tilt of her head and the barely perceptible bounce in her walk, Bella recognized the constraint her cousin was exerting to keep her feet from running.

"Bella!" Laced with nursery rhymes and secrets, Alice's voice met Bella's ears just moments before her small frame was wrapped in Bella's arms. "I brought you flowers - oh! I left them on the seat! – And I have news from Rose, and did Jasper tell you that his father is coming for a short visit? Oh my goodness, Bella, don't let me forget to tell you about the letter Kate sent from France – she's doing so many things, she even wrote a line in French!"

As always, Alice's enthusiasm refused to allow her a moment to breathe. Taking the flowers Alice's driver had retrieved for her from the carriage seat, Bella linked her arm through her cousin's and led her towards the house. Reaching to hand the flowers to Angela who was waiting on the porch with an open parasol, Bella shared a quick knowing smile with the girl before directing her companion in the direction of the gardens.

"But none of that is really important right away, because Bella you're home and you're married, and I want to know all about New York!" Alice's eyes shone brightly, and her face radiated its usual, charming glow. "I'm terribly afraid I've monopolized this entire conversation thus far, haven't I? Oh, Bella, I'm sorry. I've just looked so forward to seeing you! A month feels like such a long time when you're missing someone, doesn't it?"

Thinking of her sentiments upon seeing Jasper the day before, Bella leaned into Alice and hugged the arm entwined with her own. "I've missed the sound of your voice, Alice. Your talking does nothing but warm my heart."

"You've always been forgiving." Alice sighed, opening her own parasol and looking around the garden they were strolling through. "Now, tell me, did you enjoy your honeymoon, dear cousin?"

"New York was something!" Seeing the crowded streets and the looming architecture in her mind's eye, Bella rushed on, "You would have loved the Metropolitan Art Museum, and we even went to the opera! Oh, Alice, I've no idea how Michael got us into the Academy, but we saw a production called _la Sonnambula_, and it was so beautiful. I couldn't understand a word, but at the end, when Elvino took Amina into his arms, I understood; I cried!"

"You are _Isabella_, indeed." Alice mused and listened with rapt attention as Bella spoke about paintings and parks, of carriage rides and fashion – especially the fashion. When they made to pass through the garden a second time, the two women sat on a stone bench nestled within the flowers, overlooking a great deal of the property.

"I have gifts for you and Rose inside, remind me to send them with you. Actually, I'll see Rose at Church on Sunday, I think I should like to give her the gift myself." Fully at ease in Alice's presence, Bella twirled her parasol lightly, turning to face the smaller woman. Alice's face was fraught with mischief, and Bella shook her head. "Alice…"

"Bella you must! I don't need details, and even if I did I know you wouldn't give them to me. I just want to know that you…enjoyed yourself during the times that you did not venture out of your bedroom…" Laughing at the blush that bloomed across Bella's cheeks, Alice nudged her with an elbow. "Was he gentle with you?"

"This is highly improper for ladies to be discussing." Too warm beneath the confines of her corset, Bella bit her lip.

"Please, Bella." Laughing more, Alice lifted a tiny, gloved hand to brush some hair from Bella's eyes. "While we are indeed ladies of society, you and I both know that we are nothing but silly girls - and cousins none the less! Impropriety is to be expected with one's own family."

Alice's laughter was contagious, and Bella raised an eyebrow, "Is it now? I can't recall learning about familial impropriety in all the etiquette classes we endured."

"I do believe it came after the lesson on never being seen on the street without a proper pair of gloves, but before the lesson on allowing the gentleman seated to your right at a dinner party to assist you during the meal."

Both women erupted into laughter then, and after awhile of silence, Bella gave in.

"You are too much, Mary Alice, and I simply adore you." Taking a deep breath, she gave a glance heavenward and continued, "I cannot say that I did _not_ enjoy myself during the times that Michael and I were…alone. I've never experienced anything to compare it to. He was nothing if not kind, and for the first few mornings he arranged hot baths for me to soak in. He said it would help to ease any of my lingering discomfort, and he was right. He was a perfect gentleman the entire time."

"Arranging hot baths for you was very considerate of him..." Alice allowed her voice to trail off in thought. "I simply want to know that you were taken care of, and it does sound as if Michael anticipated your needs."

"He said that I-" Bringing her hand to her neck, Bella looked over at Alice shyly, "He said that I pleased him. Mother said that was important – that I please my husband."

"Oh, Bella." Gathering the younger woman in her arms, their parasols forgotten, Alice kissed Bella's temple. "As if you could ever displease anyone." She was only older than Bella by two years, and had only been married for one year longer; however, with Bella's cheek pressed against her shoulder, Alice's twenty felt a lifetime older than Bella's eighteen.

"Will you stay for dinner, Alice?" Remembering that she was a grown woman and not a little girl, Bella pulled back from Alice's embrace, though she found a gloved hand to hold onto.

"I wouldn't think of leaving before."

***

Bella spent the subsequent days after Alice's visit further familiarizing herself with her home, the grounds, and many of her staff, and helping them to prepare for her husband's return on Friday afternoon.

After breakfast the morning of his arrival, Bella made sure to order a light dinner so that Sue could devote the afternoon to fixing the supper she'd ordered just for Michael. She'd requested all his favorites: cold pea soup to start, roast pork and seasoned potatoes with greens and turnips for the main course, followed by citrus ice to cleanse the palate, fresh rolls with sweet cream butter, and finally an assortment of jellies, dried fruits and cakes for dessert. Unable to remember if Michael enjoyed punch, she'd ordered coffee and lemonade to be brought last, hoping it would please him.

Bella had noticed the flowers Alice brought were beginning to wilt in their vases, and with the help of young Seth, one of the stable boys – and Leah's younger brother – she had procured some secateurs and some gardening gloves, and had collected a basket full of bright, Black-Eyed Susans to replace them.

She had busied herself by writing a letter to Kate, whom Alice had in fact informed her was quite enjoying her job as caretaker for her elderly grandmother - as the responsibility had taken her to Europe. She had also written letters to her mother and Rose, though she'd see them both on Sunday.

Angela had helped to dress her in an ensemble Bella hoped Michael would like, and after having her hair re-pinned in a few places, she had asked Angela to leave so she could gather her thoughts.

Her conversation with Alice in the garden had replayed in her head many times. Sitting on the edge of the chaise longue, she fixed her eyes on the bed that until this evening she had slept in alone. Something about the way Alice had drifted off, the intonation of her voice when she approved of Michael's anticipation of Bella's needs had made Bella wonder what Alice wasn't telling her.

She had been honest, she had not disliked being intimate with Michael; there had been pain at first, but he had been gentle. There had been a strange ache in her belly that remained even after Michael's soft snoring sounded beside her, and once she had felt as if she was near to _something_, some relief from the ache, but it had eluded her. She had found it frustrating, like having an itch she couldn't scratch. Overall she simply found the whole experience to be a necessity to ensuring her husband's happiness, and her mother had stressed that this particular duty of a wife was of the utmost importance.

She wondered if Michael would be too tired to expect her to be his wife in that way tonight.

In the distance she could hear the familiar sound of carriage wheels approaching, and sure enough Angela appeared to inform her that Michael was arriving.

"Thank you, Angela. Do I look alright?"

"You look beautiful, Bella. Come on, now." Angela adjusted Bella's skirts where they had bunched just slightly from sitting, and pushed her towards the stairs.

The day was nearing its end and darkness was beginning to lurk within shadows around the edges of the property, but Bella could see Michael clearly. She noticed he looked tired, but as his legs brought him up the porch steps to where she stood near the door, Bella's heart thudded with pride when he smiled appreciatively at her.

"Isabella."

Bella stiffened slightly at the use of her full name; it was one thing Michael had not yet consented to. He absolutely insisted on calling her Isabella, though he had taken to calling her 'Izzie' from time to time - usually when he thought something should be of interest to her.

"Look, Izzie, can you see there where they're building the bridge? It's going to be the greatest bridge in these United States."

"Michael." Pushing down her unease, Bella remembered her place, "Did you have a nice journey?"

"It was pleasant enough, though my destination is by far the nicest thing I've seen today." He brought one of her bare hands to his lips, and Bella's smile was genuine when he winked one blue eye at her.

"I don't mean to intrude, Sir, but will you be needing anything else from me this evening, or may I retire?"

Michael winked at Bella again before dropping her hand and turning to address the man speaking from the bottom of the steps. Eyes widening, Bella sucked in a tiny breath, for once glad for her corset that kept her from the great gasp she was sure would have filled her lungs.

He was beautiful.

"You've had a long day as well. If you'd lead the carriage back to the stables, tell Sam to rub down the horse and put the tack and carriage away. You may retire to your quarters in the carriage house after."

"Sir." Glancing briefly at Bella, the young man nodded and was about to walk away when Michael spoke again.

"Wait, wait, there is one more thing." Taking hold of Bella's elbow, Michael drew her to stand just in front of him. "You should meet my wife."

Bella swallowed as the man's eyes met hers, for she was sure the freshest summer grass envied their color – even in the fading light.

"It's nice to meet you," She managed, extending her hand, as a married woman should.

"I'm sure that the pleasure's all mine, Ma'am." The young man's mouth turned up on one side as he shook her hand, and Bella smiled politely back.

"Isabella, this is Edward. His father served as a driver for my family for many years, if you can remember him, pleasant Irish man?"

"Mr. Masen?" Looking back and up at Michael, she saw his nod of affirmation.

"That's right. Mr. Masen's wife has fallen ill, and Edward here has taken his place. Anywhere you need to go, you let him know. He'll take you."

"Your husband says you're to be taken to the Charity Society in town twice a week." The man's, Edward's, voice just hinted at his Irish birth, and Bella found herself leaning back just slightly into her husband's side.

Edward's mouth was still curved into a crooked smile, and under his hat, Bella glimpsed some strands of reddish hair, darkened by a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and she could feel her own face heating at her perusal of his pale skin.

"Yes, that's correct. I also have a cousin I shall like to visit often, and my parents."

"Edward's quartered in the carriage house, Izzie. You can send Angela for him at any time. He'll help Sam maintain the grounds as well." With a hand at the small of her back, Michael turned her towards the door. "Right, well. That will be all, Edward. Good night."

"Good night, Sir. Ma'am."

Bella allowed Michael to lead her inside, and as she told him of the special dinner she had ordered, he hummed in approval.

"Did you find the house to your liking?"

"Yes, yes of course. I cut these flowers myself." Motioning towards the bright yellow flowers near the staircase, Bella bit her lip.

"They're beautiful, Isabella."

As Michael's lips brushed soft against the corner of her mouth, Bella closed her eyes.

She saw green behind her eyelids.

*_Secateurs_ – pruning shears used in gardening.

*_Chemise_ – an item of 19th century lingerie; worn for modesty, and as a protective layer for the skin under the corset.

*_La sonnambula_ (_The Sleepwalker_) is an opera in two acts, by Vincenzo Bellini, and was popular in the early and mid 19th century. It is still performed in opera houses around the world, today.


	4. Chapter 3

I'd never write a word without the encouragement of my friends, who also happen to be my betas and my lifelines, **noctems**,** vanilladoubleshot**, and **windtrails. **Special thanks to **Ashaleelee **for sharing my love of history nerdness, and for her mad web skills. To **contreplongee, **for anchoring my feet on the ground. To my **Michelle, **who is a constant in an ocean full of unknowns.

I love reading the reviews people write; you're all so sweet! Thank you to anyone who has taken the time to let me know what they think, and who has favorited/alerted/rec'd this fic; you all own me.

I hope those of you who celebrated, had a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving Day!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these characters in any way, I'd be relaxing and sipping champagne on a mother-effing boat somewhere in the Caribbean with the bank I made over the last week.

***

"_Stop fidgeting, Isabella." Grasping one of her daughter's hands in hers, Renée Swan squeezed it tightly, "You have met the Newtons before; please stop working yourself into a dither." _

"_I cannot breathe, Mother." Her free palm pressed against her abdomen, Bella blinked to hold back tears. She had met the Newtons in passing at Church, but did not know their son, nor had she spent time with them knowing she would be marrying him. Twisting again in discomfort, Bella gave Renée a pleading look, "Please, this corset is too tight. May I please have Nettie loosen it?"_

_Sighing in what was quickly becoming impatience, Bella's mother shook her head, "The corset is not too tight, Bella, you are just unaccustomed to it. You are fine." Releasing Bella's hand to rub small circles against the fabric at her daughter's lower back, the older woman kissed the side of her hair._

"_I want Jasper." Her words were just a whisper, but Bella knew her mother would hear. As she thought she would, Renée sighed again, and Bella very momentarily hated Jasper for abandoning her, and her cousin for stealing his affections. _

"_You are a young lady, Bella, and Jasper is a married man now. You are no longer children; you have responsibilities to your future in-laws, and he has Alice to take care of. Now please, please Isabella, do try to sit still, you're beginning to perspire." _

_Wincing as she took the deepest breath she could, Bella did her best to imagine a wooden plank attached to her spine - keeping it straight - as she pulled her shoulders back. _

_Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Newton were set to arrive at the Governor's mansion for supper, bringing with them their son, Michael. Bella knew little of him, only that he was a businessman like his father, and had spent time living in London and in New York before moving to town. He had left for university shortly after his parents moved into the area, and Bella could not recall him paying any visits. Then again, she was only a few months eighteen and he was an established twenty-six; what would she know of his visits._

"_The Newtons' carriage is arriving," Entering the room, Governor Charles Swan made his way to Bella's side. "How are you, my darling?" _

"_I must admit I'm anxious." Basking in the adoring look her father gave her, Bella closed her eyes as he took her hands in his. Governor Swan was a man of few words, but when he spoke it was with grace, and people listened._

"_You are beautiful, Bella." Helping her to stand, Charles pressed a kiss to her forehead. "This is an important evening, but do remember that your mother and I are very proud of the young lady you've become." Smiling, at Renée over his daughter's head, he looked again at Bella, "I'm sure your mother has told you to remember your manners and to be sure to engage Michael and his parents with respect, so I will not tell you again. I will tell you though, Bella – remember to breathe."_

_Bella couldn't help but relax as her father winked at her, kissing her forehead again. "Thank you, Father. I'm sure breathing will help conversation."_

_Even her mother laughed._

"_Mr. Nathaniel Newton and his wife, and Mr. Michael Newton." _

_As Mr. Weber announced their guests, Bella's eyes quickly scanned Mr. and Mrs. Newton before slowly finding the man who would be her husband standing beside his father. _

_Alice would be pleased to know that he was not hideous - in fact, Bella easily found him pleasing to look at. His blonde hair was combed neatly and the dark grey suit he wore offset the pale blue of his eyes. He was broad shouldered, and Bella thought she saw a glimpse of a dimple as Michael smiled and shook her father's hand._

"_May I introduce you to my wife, Michael - and this is our only daughter; Isabella." _

_Curtsying, Bella watched – confused - as Michael's hair seemed to swim in a macédoine of color before settling into a red-brown, his blue eyes twinkling before flashing green like spring leaves…_

With a gasp, Bella startled awake. Hair that had come loose from her braid was sticking to the clammy skin of her face, and there was a thrum of exhilaration in each frantic _lub dub_ of her beating heart. Breathing in deeply through her nose, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the pre-dawn dark of her bedroom, before resting their gaze on Michael's silhouette beside her.

Had she really just dreamt of Michael turning into Edward?

She had seen Edward exactly four times since their introduction on her porch: Sunday morning as he drove her and Michael to and from Church, and the same afternoon and evening as he drove them to and from the Governor's mansion for Sunday dinner. He was polite and amiable; with his '_yes Ma'am_'s and his '_watch your step, Mrs. Newton_'s. His lips were forever upturned in the lopsided half-smile he had shown that first night, and she noticed his hair had a propensity for sticking out in rogue tufts from beneath his hat; even though she had seen him smooth it.

There was absolutely no reason for her subconscious to insert him into her thoughts at all. Into her sleep conscious. Into _that _particular memory.

The memory of that first meeting with Michael was one she hoped to reflect upon with great romance someday. She imagined her voice, laden with fondness, as she retold the story of how he had held her trembling hand reverently before kissing her knuckles. She would recount his boyish charm, as he so easily impressed her mother, the way he had stared at her from across the dining table with unabashed interest. She would tell her own daughters, in reassurance that the anxious knots in her belly had loosened as their father laughed easily with their Governor grandfather. Her girls would smile silly, dreamy smiles, imagining how their mother fell in love.

She hoped.

But now, now she had to shake her head to will the clear green eyes of the handsome carriage driver to give way to the summer morning blues of the man whom she shared a bed with.

"Isabella?" Michael's shifting weight dipped her body toward the bed's center slightly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, yes." Clearing her throat, Bella smiled awkwardly into the darkness between them. "I had a dream that woke me; I didn't mean to disturb you."

Beside her, Michael moved again, and she held her breath as one of his hands found her still sweaty forehead, smoothing back the hair stuck there.

"You're shaking," He was close enough now for her to see his features clearly, and there was concern evident in the pull of his eyebrows. "Did you have a terror? Are you frightened?"

Bella's thoughts tiptoed to the edge of the dream again; her heart had resumed its healthy, steady rhythm, but the exhilaration – like a faint vibration beneath her skin – remained. She felt…she wasn't sure what she felt, but she was certain it was not fear. "I'm not frightened. Really, I'm fine. I'm sorry I bothered your rest."

"I'm not bothered; as long as you are quite certain you are well." Michael's hand brushed down her arm, lingering where her wrist pressed above her breasts.

"I am," Tensing as his fingertips brushed her chest over the material of her nightgown, Bella sighed as his touch disappeared from her body all together.

"May I…hold you?"

Pressing her head back into her pillow, Bella squinted at her husband's request. She was his wife; he could do with her as he pleased. Bringing her hand to her neck, Bella maneuvered until she felt the harder planes of Michael's body against her own soft ones. Biting her bottom lip, she placed a tentative hand on his arm, before resting her cheek against his warm, cotton-covered chest.

"Go back to sleep now, Isabella," He whispered, enclosing her in his embrace; his palms hovering over her back until they found a resting place along her scapula.

As his breathing evened out once more, Bella felt guilt wash over her. Inching closer to him, she buried her face tighter to the place she felt his heart pulse below her cheek.

She would learn to love this man.

***

After waking up late to brunch that Michael ordered brought to her in bed, the rest of Monday passed with little consequence.

She talked for a short time with Leah, checking to be sure that the new week was off to an acceptable start. The housekeeper had seemed comfortable with Bella alone, but when Angela entered the room, Leah was again quick to excuse herself.

"She doesn't speak to me." Angela shrugged.

Bella knew it bothered the meek girl; Angela had never known another human being to dislike her in all her seventeen years. She was curious as to Leah's aversion and planned to discuss it with her later. If she had to, she would inquire with Sue about her daughter's behavior.

She had seen Edward, Seth, and Sam leading horses back from pasture, and her eyes had followed Edward's approaching form until the memory of Michael's hands on her back forced her attention to the menu she was writing. Sunday dinner was to be at her home the upcoming week, and her mother had taught her to plan early when ordering larger-than-usual meals, as to be mindful of the cook's workload.

After supper, Bella played piano while Michael read - at his request. Mrs. Weber had taught her well; of all the refinements her dear governess had endeavored to make her proficient in, the piano was her shining achievement.

Tuesday morning started earlier than usual, allowing Bella the time she needed to dress and prepare for her trip into town. Today would be her first formal meeting with the ladies of the Charity Society. Though she had known of, and met with Mrs. Cullen or Esme as she had insisted upon, privately, Alice's sister-in-law - and Bella's friend and cousin - Rosalie, would be the only other lady she knew personally.

Michael escorted her to her awaiting carriage, and after reminding her he would be taking supper with his father and other business associates, helped Bella to her seat.

"Give my regards to Dr. Cullen if you see him. In fact, why don't you invite the doctor and his wife for supper, Izzie." He appeared pleased with his idea, and Bella nodded her acquiescence. "Good, good. Have an enjoyable day, Isabella. Be…charitable."

Shaking her head, Bella smiled as Edward gave the command for the carriage horses to begin their journey. The drive to town took nearly three quarters of an hour, and Bella fought the traitorous intentions of her eyes that wished to study the man on the driver's box in front her.

She fought, but to very little avail.

She couldn't keep herself from noticing the faint rolling of muscle under his suit jacket as he handled the reins. The way the hair sticking out from under his hat licked at his ears like dark flames in the breeze. She thought she heard him speak at one point, only to realize he was humming quietly to himself, lost in his own thoughts.

She wanted to know them.

As the carriage came to a halt in front of the tall, brick building of the town hospital, Bella blanched when she thought of Esme and Rosalie waiting for her. Rose did not know her very well, but her husband certainly did; Emmett would read her flushed face as easy as the bank ledgers he kept. No doubt any queer behavior on her part would be reported to her older cousin, and the queries that would surely follow were most unwelcome.

Looking down at her gloved hands, Bella frowned. What was it about Edward that fascinated her so? He was certainly not the first beautiful man she'd ever seen; Michael was beautiful as well. But where Michael was urbane and polished, the man who was now waiting with a proffered hand to assist her, seemed bucolic and unkempt. Was it so wrong to simply want to know him?

"Watch your step, Mrs. Newton."

_Mrs. Newton_.

"I'd like it very much if you called me Miss Bella, Edward." Smoothing her skirts, Bella looked anywhere but at the coachman's face.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ma'am. I hope you'll be able to suffer my manners."

Had he just called her rude? "I'll do my best to endure them, though I hope you'll reconsider. I am no friend to social distinctions, _Mr. Masen_."

"You may not court your class, but be assured that _it_ follows _you_ vigilantly." Edward spoke without condescension, and Bella knew his words to be without pretense.

One does not grow up the daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter of a respected line of politicians without scrutiny and expectation, even if it was unwelcome and stifling.

"I'll bring the carriage 'round at two o'clock, if that suits?"

Bella watched as Edward settled back onto his driver's box, nodding her approval when his gaze sought hers.

"Ma'am." With a lift of his hat, Edward clicked to the horses, and Bella looked on as the carriage drove away.

The Charity Society kept office in the hospital annex, and upon entering she could hear women's voices that led her to their place of meeting.

"Bella, it's such a joy to meet you, again!" Esme's face was aglow with delight as she stood to greet the newcomer, and Bella was immediately at ease in the warmth of her quick embrace.

"I'm pleased to be here, Esme." Giving a glance at the women seated in chairs around a rather sparsely - if not beautifully - decorated office room, Bella smiled at Esme and found a seat beside Rosalie.

"Good morning, Bella." Rose's voice was smooth like molasses over honey cakes, and Bella reached a hand to squeeze her cousin's forearm.

"Good morning, Rose."

The ladies present engaged in idle chatter for a short while, and Bella did her best to memorize faces to go with the names – Tanya, Samantha, Jane, Sara - that Rosalie was listing off to her. There were seven women present, and one woman, Cora, still yet to arrive.

Esme Cullen was well known to Bella, not only because she was the wife of the town's most reputable doctor, Carlisle Cullen, but because she herself was beloved. There were those who begrudged the work she did at the orphanage, and the way she had taken it upon herself to form the Charity Society as a joint mission from the hospital and the Episcopal church in town. There were some who went so far as to question the morality of her motives, who called her work with the orphans 'self gratifying'; Esme was unable to bear her own children. However, as a rule, nothing but good followed Mrs. Carlisle Cullen, and her sweet disposition was also talked about in social circles. Bella's own mother had always spoken of her with great respect, reminding Bella that being quick to judge did not a pleasant soul make.

Of course there were also those who simply frowned upon the way the Cullens chose to live outside of society's expectations. As the son of an Episcopal minister, Carlisle had worked hard to attend medical school at the University of Cambridge in London; with the help of a surprising inheritance left from his grandfather who'd also been a doctor. The generous inheritance, as well as Carlisle's exceptional doctoral skills had pushed them into higher society as 'new money', yet while the couple enjoyed life in a modest home in town, they kept no servants. It was not uncommon to see children and adults alike leaving the Cullen home after a meal that Esme had cooked herself, or to see her dressed in simple - though elegant and lovely - clothing she had sewn on her own.

Esme was beautiful, even without the aid of attendants and high fashion, and Bella admired the way she broke social protocol with such grace and poise that even those who disagreed with her couldn't help but love her anyway.

Soon enough, Cora arrived, and Esme - with a short word of prayer - called the meeting to order. She introduced Bella, and then gave a short introduction for each of the women that Rose had previously named.

The actual meeting involved short testimonials from each of the women about what was being done throughout the week. The woman Jane spoke of the preparations that would need to begin in order to prepare for the approaching autumn, Rosalie had the names of a handful of new families she thought could use assistance, and Samantha talked about the group of immigrant women she was teaching to read.

The ladies discussed meals that would be taken to some elderly families, and Esme informed them that the orphans had already expressed interest in planning holiday surprises for the shut-ins.

The more she listened, Bella grew more and more convinced that her decision to join the group was providential. She listened especially as Esme and Samantha spoke, having expressed the desire to work with women and children particularly.

As it seemed the discussions were coming to a close, Esme left the room and returned soon after with a tray full of cookies, and a teapot with a stack of matching teacups.

"Esme likes to end the meetings with tea, she says it sends us away with warm hearts." Rosalie whispered, the admiration evident in her words.

"How wonderful." Bella replied, watching as Esme set the tray on a desk in the corner of the room, and in the most casual manner each of the ladies got up and helped themselves.

After tea and friendlier talking, Esme announced the meeting to be over with another short word of prayer, offering thanks for Bella's addition to their number.

Bella did her best to speak to each of the ladies, even as they prepared to leave, thanking them individually for welcoming her into their group so willingly.

"When Rose told us you were thinking of joining us, and then Esme confirmed, I think we were all excited to have you!" Jane assured her, squeezing both of Bella's hands in her own, "I know I am glad to have you, it will be nice to no longer be the only baby of the group."

In her introduction of Jane, Esme had mentioned she too had only been married a short time, to a young doctor named Felix who worked with Carlisle.

"It will be nice to have another newly wed to be friends with, if it is not presumptuous to say we shall be friends, Jane." With a light touch to the pretty girl's shoulder, Bella smiled.

She had never made many friends outside of her close-knit family, and she found herself truly excited at the idea of socializing with another young lady her age.

"I was hoping the same, so if you are presumptuous, we can count our chicks together."

Bella laughed and waved as Jane quit the room, noticing that she was now alone with Rose and Esme.

"What do you think, Bella? Do you believe you will be happy among our group?" The wide smile across her face showed that Rosalie already knew the answer to her question, and Bella reached over to hug the older woman tightly.

"Oh my goodness, yes!"

Esme and Rosalie both laughed, and as they made their way to the door, Esme escorting the cousins on her way to make her visits to patients at the hospital, Bella remembered Michael's request as she pulled on her gloves.

"Oh! Esme, I almost forgot; my husband and I would be pleased if Dr. Cullen and yourself would join us for supper one evening, at your convenience."

"That would be lovely, Bella." Opening the door that led to the street, Esme raised a hand to her mouth in thought. "Would it be suitable if I checked with my husband and sent word to you?"

"Of course, that will be just fine." Bella felt her pulse quicken slightly when she saw her carriage waiting, Edward leaning forward to rest his elbows on his propped knee, awaiting her. He straightened upon noticing them; dropping the foot he'd had resting on the step to the ground.

"Well, Edward, don't you look smart in your coach suit."

Bella's eyes widened as Esme quickly reached up to cup Edward's face in her hands, stretching to place a motherly kiss on his forehead.

Grinning, Edward lifted his hat to run a hand over his untameable hair. "You are all sweetness and light, Esme. It's always nice to see you, again."

Raising a hand to her neck, Bella looked questioningly at Rosalie, who raised her eyebrows discreetly; she did not appear to know Edward at all.

"Tell me, darling, how is your mother?"

"She's keeping steady. I saw her Saturday and she was in high spirits, even up to visitors; Victoria joined us for dinner."

It was not lost on Bella the way Edward's eyes flickered to her face, a faint pink creeping up above his collar.

"That's wonderful news. I'll be stopping in to visit her later in the week; I have a pattern I am hoping she can assist me with, and a care card from the children at the orphanage." Patting his cheek gently, Esme stepped back and motioned for Edward to see to Bella. "I'm so glad you could join us, Bella. I will speak to you on Friday, and will send word about your request; please extend our gratitude to your husband for me?"

Hugging Rosalie tightly and whispering she'd see her when she and Alice visited, Bella allowed herself to be pulled into Esme's parting embrace.

"Yes, Friday, and I shall pass the word to Michael." Taking the hand Edward extended her Bella situated herself in her seat as Edward raised his hat to Rosalie and smiled fondly at Esme.

As the carriage pulled away from earshot, Bella leaned forward slightly in order to speak to her driver.

"You did not tell me you were acquainted with the Cullens."

Turning his head to hear her, eyes still fixed on the road that would lead them out of town, Edward shrugged imperceptibly, "You didn't ask."

"I-" Crossing her arms at her abdomen, Bella sat back. There was no reason Edward should have cause to inform her of his acquaintances outside of friendly conversation, which it appeared he was not interested in entertaining. As she thought of the way he'd addressed the doctor's wife, Bella leaned forward again. "You addressed Esme by her first name only…"

Edward remained quiet, and Bella resigned herself to his dismissal of her statement. It wasn't until the carriage pulled up to her house and Edward stood by the carriage door, ready to help her, that he spoke.

"I can only be your coachman, Mrs. Newton." Sighing, Edward looked away towards the front porch. "You and I, we can't be friends. Please, forgive my impertinence, but I think it unwise for me to address you so comfortably as I did Mrs. Cullen. It is not my intention to offend you." Returning his reflective green eyes to meet Bella's own brown, Edward flashed his crooked smile.

"And if I want us to be friends?" Refusing his hand, Bella climbed down from the carriage by herself. Once again, Edward didn't answer her, and as he clamored up to drive the horses to the stables, she made a decision.

He _would_ call her Bella.

* * *

**A/N**: Quickly, I want to direct you all to my dear friend and beta, **windtrails**' new fic, How To Fall Apart. I don't even need to give you a summary, please, just read it. It'll speak for itself, and you won't be sorry. You can find it under my favorite stories on my profile.


	5. Chapter 4

My betas, **noctems**, **vanilladoubleshot**, and **windtrails,** are practically perfect in every way, and I love them. Thanks also to **linsadair** and **contreplongee** for giving me such wonderful feedback, and for giving this a first read as well.

This is for my angel **Michelle**, whose laughter and constant companionship I miss more than I have air enough to breathe.

I hope you all had a very safe and wonderful holiday season – here's to Twenty Ten! I've left you a shiny A/N at the end of the chapter.

**Disclaimer**: Santa didn't leave the legal rights to Twilight in my stocking, so all I own is a new bomber jacket, some penguin socks, and Jack Skellington wrist sleeves.

***

When you are wishing for time to pass expediently, it will - without fail - feel as though it is passing at a snail's pace.

Bella recalled this truth, waiting for her guests to arrive for Sunday dinner. Unable to pay attention during church, she'd nearly wished a lame leg for each of the en route carriage horses since returning home. This was to be the first of what was sure to be a countless number of Sunday dinners at her home, and as she worried over the menu, sent Leah and Rachel - another of the house staff - to dust once again, and fussed over the flowers she'd sent Angela to pick, Bella prayed she'd grow accustomed to the stress of it all.

"Isabella, you must relax." Chuckling, Michael led his wife to take a seat in the parlor, standing behind her to rub some tension from her neck. "You cannot truly believe your mother will set about checking for dust in our bedroom."

"It's not my own mother I fret over." Eyes widening, Bella lurched forward on the sofa, turning to grab Michael's forearms. "Oh my heavens, I'm sorry Michael. I didn't-"

"Hush Izzie," Michael interrupted. "You're more forthcoming under duress." Bending down to linger a kiss against her still open lips, Michael laughed. "I like it."

Bella felt warmth bloom across her chest, whether from the heat of her husband's mouth with her own, or from embarrassment over her rudeness - despite Michael's nonchalance - she wasn't sure.

"You are managing our home quite efficiently, Isabella." Kissing her forehead this time, Michael stepped back from the sofa and smiled down at her. "I do believe that even the elder Mrs. Newton should not find fault with your success thus far."

Returning his smile, Bella watched as Michael made his way to the door.

"I'm going to see that Sam and the boys are prepared to warm down the horses. Do try to remain calm, now."

"The Governor's carriage will also be bringing Jasper and Alice, so they are to expect three carriages, not four." Inwardly chastising herself for seemingly assuming negligence on the part of Michael's memory, Bella sighed.

"I haven't forgotten, Izzie." Mouth twitching in amusement, Michael shook his head. "You are a force today."

"Please forgive my hasty speech; perhaps today's service should have centered on the importance of bridling one's tongue. Not that I would have heard a word." Finding humor in the day at last, Bella allowed herself a quiet laugh.

"There's a laugh; keep at it." Winking, Michael took his leave.

It wasn't long before Bella stood waiting on her sprawling front porch, hands clasped anxiously at the waist of her skirts, as her father-in-law's carriage drove up to the house. In the distance she could see both the Brandon carriage and the Governor's carriage approaching as well.

All of them attended the Episcopal Church in town, and every week as a courtesy to the Sunday dinner host, the guest families would take extra time socializing after the morning service.

Mr. and Mrs. Newton had not visited their son's new home since Bella had returned from their honeymoon, and Bella felt the added weight of her mother-in-law's imminent scrutiny like an anchor behind her corset.

"_Even the elder Mrs. Newton should not find fault with your success…"_

Michael appeared just as his mother stepped out of the enclosed carriage, and he took her arm while placing a kiss on her cheek.

Mr. Newton senior emerged moments later, and with a handshake Michael escorted them both towards the house.

"Welcome, Mother Newton." Bella greeted the older woman with a smile and a squeeze of her arm. As her mother-in-law delicately hoisted her expensive Sunday skirts to ascend them beside her son, Bella was glad for the last minute sweep of the stairs she'd requested Angela do.

"I like the lamps and candles in the window, Isabella." Giving the front of the house a once over, Karen Newton settled her gaze on the aforementioned luminaries and nodded approvingly. "Do you light them after dark?"

"Yes ma'am. Well, usually just the lamps - one on each side of the house." The thought of setting fire to the ornate curtains the woman had draped the many front windows with, for aesthetics, had not appealed to Bella, nor Michael. The lamps were both wired with electricity, and Leah saw that they were shut off at bedtime.

"Mother, let me take you into the parlor while Isabella waits for the Governor to arrive. Father, you'll be pleased to hear my grounds keeper trapped and made rid of the fox that's been terrorizing the horses..." Giving Bella a conspiratorial smile with his eyes, Michael led his parents through the front door.

As the carriages of her father and cousin pulled up, Bella felt the arrival of those closest to her lift the anxiety from her limbs. She could hear Emmett's laughter carrying on a pleasant breeze; much like his little sister's, Emmett's mirth was hard-pressed to be quelled. She could see Sam, Seth, Paul, and Edward waiting outside the stables as the Newton's driver directed the horses there to allow The Governor's carriage room to pull forward.

Other than her trips in to the Charity Society and the visit to Alice she'd made on Thursday, Bella had not had any interaction with Edward at all since Tuesday. As always, he maintained his polite propriety, but he made it quite clear with his nonverbal communication that any attempt at fraternization would be in vain. Michael had picked up on her frustration at the situation, and had just that morning questioned her. She assured him that Edward was a very capable coachman, to which Michael had replied:

"_If he's anything like his father, Edward will be a dutiful and pleasant fellow to have in your service, Izzie. Mr. Masen - Edward Senior - is a man bred from good stock. I would hope I haven't taken on a man who'd serve his father's reputation ill. I have found him to be quite agreeable, myself."_

While his words were meant to set her at ease, her husband's inference that Edward was a respectable and likeable man only fueled her vexation. That he would deny her the pleasure of his friendly acquaintance – for reasons mostly unspoken – infuriated her. Perhaps society frowned upon such familiarities between servant and employer, but she'd sought her entire young life to erase the lines that would box her in from a world she had no intention of looking down upon.

She didn't believe that her marital status should be of such great consequence either; a matter she knew her mother would firmly disagree with. She had maintained a close relationship with Jasper after his marriage, and now after her own. Setting aside for a moment that Jasper had been raised alongside her much as an older brother, Bella saw no reason a bond between she and Edward should be considered inappropriate, while the other remained.

As if stepping out of her thoughts, Jasper materialized on the porch steps in front of her. Startled, Bella looked around at the bemused faces of her parents, Alice, Emmett and Rosalie – all of whom had exited their carriages while she entertained her private musings.

"You look much as you used to when Cook caught your fingers snatching honey cakes hot from the fire." Winking, Jasper slouched down to catch Bella's eyes before whispering; "You and I have an engagement for some pedestrianism this week, Lala. Perhaps I can take some of your thoughts for awhile."

Bella nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jasper's cheek as he extended his arm for her mother.

"Always whispering, the two of you." Renée smiled, taking Jasper's arm. "My two children; always whispering and scheming and daydreaming."

"Mrs. Swan has no idea where the notion to daydream comes from, of course." With Alice and Rosalie on either arm, Bella's father escorted them to the porch, Emmett – with a smile as wide as the sky – followed after.

"You're right, Governor Swan. I've no idea at all."

Laughing, Bella relaxed into Emmett's outstretched arms, hugging him tightly before taking his arm and following the group into her house. Michael and his father stood as they entered the parlor, and Bella sighed happily as her mother and mother-in-law immediately began discussing the lace draped over the back of the sofa and chairs.

"You've a nice parlor here, Bella." Emmett praised, nudging Bella with his elbow. "I would point out specifics, and comment on the lace like my aunt over there; however, I can't tell the difference between lace and a holey table runner."

Bella laughed, though she knew her cousin to be sincere, "I purchased that particular eyelet lace in New York, from the most wonderful textile store I've ever set foot in."

"Ah! Eyelet lace, you say?" Pulling his fingers and thumb over his chin, Emmett feigned interest.

"Mm hmm. You're sure to keep rousing conversation with the gentleman later – and at the bank – when you let on that you're so well versed in lace nuance."

"You are right, of course." Giving Bella's side a squeeze, Emmett chuckled, "Though I already know more about ladies' fashion and home décor than a man ever should, thanks to growing up with Alice."

"Mary Alice is what, five years your junior? You are such a doting older brother, Emmett. Though I'm fairly certain your dear sister would be displeased to think you'd not learned the difference between lace and a – what was it again – holey table runner, in all your years in her tutelage."

"What I find displeasing, is that you're discussing me while I am unable to properly defend myself." Taking Bella's arm from Emmett's and tucking it with her own, Alice looked between her cousin and brother accusingly; the adoration she felt for both evident.

"Bella and I were verbally excogitating the finer qualities of eyelet lace, if you must know, Mrs. Whitlock."

"Besides," Bella assured the older woman, "you are well aware that neither your brother nor I are capable of speaking ill of you."

"Are either of you capable of speaking ill of anyone at all?" Rosalie queried, joining them and smiling fondly at her husband as his arm settled around her waist.

"Perhaps not Emmett, but I have been known to speak from my churlish thoughts. I'm sure my cousins and Jasper could tell you innumerable tales." Watching as Emmett's fingers curled lovingly around the curve just below the line of Rose's bodice, Bella glanced at Michael quickly. A faint stab of longing throbbed in her chest, and she brought a hand to her neck, fingering a fine wisp of hair behind her ear.

"Pay no heed to Bella." Emmett scoffed, giving his younger cousin's shoulder an affectionate pat. "She has a heart as big as the ocean, and a sense of humanity that rivals the most selfless saint in history. What she is capable of, however, is passionate discourse."

Bella's argument was lost to Alice's murmurs of agreement and Emily's announcement that dinner was ready to be served.

The meal was met with great praise and Bella flushed at the compliments, insisting that all lavishments should be bestowed upon the cook. After all, she had merely ordered dinner, not prepared it.

Bella listened quietly as the people at the very core of her existence conversed around her. She added to discussion as she felt compelled, and she was quick to answer the questions her father-in-law asked about the Charity Society – with help from Rose - and the work she'd be doing. Mrs. Newton seemed pleased that Bella had invited the Cullens to supper, and Bella noticed her own mother nod approvingly, the pride she felt for her only daughter recognizable across her pretty features.

Rosalie mentioned Esme's interaction with Edward, inquiring of Michael if he knew of the connection between them. Michael shook his head, looking to his father for a possible explanation, which it seemed Mr. Nathaniel Newton did indeed have.

He told them of Edward Senior's wife, Elizabeth, and her work with the Charity Society's orphanage. She was employed with a clothing factory in town, and her seamstress skills had led her to volunteer what little spare time she had to sewing clothes for the orphans. It seemed to him that Mr. Masen had mentioned that as his wife's health waned, Edward had taken over her deliveries, even helping his mother cut and pin patterns so her strength was kept for stitching.

Bella recalled Esme mentioning patterns to Edward during their meeting, and wondered if the doctor's wife herself was now sewing the children's clothes.

"I simply cannot remember him." Shaking her head, Rosalie frowned. "I don't do much work with the orphanage, but I do know Elizabeth Masen. How is it that I've neglected to make her son's acquaintance?"

"Do they not attend church?" Emmett asked, sipping from his water, no hint of judgment in his words.

"Edward is young, not much older than Isabella, if I recall correctly." Michael offered, "He's been away to university, though I myself have vague recollections of him as an older boy during my visits home."

"The Masen family is not religious, so you'd have no cause to recognize them from any congregations in town." Nathaniel added, seated to Bella's right. "They live in a home in town, and young Edward was given the chance at university on loan from a local businessman. He's apparently quite the intelligent young man. Such a shame that his mother's health has taken a turn; it shows great quality that he returned home and ultimately took his current position in my son's employment, so his father could care for her. I believe Dr. Cullen makes house calls for Mrs. Masen, allowing her the comfort of her own home."

At that, Bella saw realization dawn across her father's face, and she folded her hands around the linen napkin in her lap, tightly pressing her thumbs back into her corseted abdomen

"Do you know the Masens, Father?" She asked. She had only known Mr. Masen from a few carriage rides she'd taken with Michael during their arranged courtship.

"Well, I certainly know _of_ them, Bella." He smiled, "There are few families in the area I am not at least aware of." As Governor, Charles Swan took great personal care to be conscientious of the citizens he was serving. "I do believe I know where your coachmen received his loan, and it was not from a businessman."

Bella thought for a moment, watching as each individual around the table ruminated as well. Jasper seemed to have come to the same conclusion as her father, and as she met his gaze across the table, he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh." Feeling tears burn in the back of her throat, Bella understood. "The Cullens. Dr. Cullen sent Edward to university." Looking to her father, she saw his nod.

"There are few people as generous as Doctor and Mrs. Cullen." Rosalie whispered, and Bella saw – much as she'd observed during meetings – the high esteem the older woman kept them in.

"How selfless. Do you think Edward was to be a doctor?" Alice wondered, her tone suggesting she was merely voicing her private thoughts aloud.

Thinking again of the interaction she and Rosalie had been witness to outside the hospital annex, Bella knew in her heart that Alice was accurate in her thinking. She could not be positive of course, without Edward's confirmation, but it resonated in her – the idea of Edward wishing to pursue learning in such a field that would allow him to care for others the way Dr. Cullen cared for his mother.

It was also clear in the brief observation she was privy to, that there was quite a mutual fondness between the town's beloved Esme and the young coachman.

The company was quiet as Emily and Rachel served dessert. Renée was first to break the silence, and Bella sighed thankfully as various talk on the morning service and other simpler things carried on around her.

"Are you alright, my Bella?"

Jasper's voice drew her in from her thoughts, all of them caught up in a tempest of emotion, the eye of which was Edward.

"I cannot begin to imagine…" Trailing off, Bella brought a small spoonful of custard to her mouth, swallowing and tasting nothing.

Jasper regarded her quietly, and Bella could almost feel the peace his gentle gaze sought to instill in her.

"It's quite the injustice isn't it," He spoke finally, and Bella blinked back more tears and nodded.

"No wonder he won't talk to me." Knowing Jasper would not understand, Bella shook her head, "He probably resents me. What a menial duty driving a carriage for a silly woman must be, when he has the mind – and had opportunity – to be a doctor."

"You mustn't feel guilty, Bella." Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Jasper continued. "We cannot explain every occurrence in this life, but perhaps that was not meant to be for Edward. While it's sad, it's still the circumstance life brought his way. In fact, you yourself would say that all work is worthy work; just because he chose to drive carriage for you and your husband, does not mean he resents it. I would wager he's proud to serve his family by providing for them."

"Would you be proud, Jasper, if you were unable to continue working in the Governor's office? If you had to go into service for someone else?"

Without hesitation, Jasper answered, "Yes. If I were faced with the reality that I would have to plow another man's field to provide and care for Alice, I would do it. No question. A man's pride goes a long way, Bella, but the responsibility to care for one's family – that is a man's calling. A calling that is no respecter of persons or class."

"It still isn't fair." Closing her eyes for a moment, Bella fought for control of her tear ducts. Jasper was right. If anything, Edward's decision to leave university to help his mother and take the responsibility of providing for both parents made him more respectable than any degree or title would.

"No, Bella," Jasper agreed, "It isn't fair. But don't do this man the disservice of pitying him. I would say he deserves more than that, wouldn't you?"

Sighing, Bella once again met Jasper's eyes. Life had certainly given her more than her fair share of fortune, more than the monetary wealth she'd born into. Jasper's wisdom and understanding was invaluable, and as the voices of the others came back into her concentration, Bella felt afresh the blessings she so often took for granted.

The rest of dinner passed quickly, and Bella did her best to remain engaged in her hostess responsibilities. After the men retired to Michael's study for more masculine talk, she arranged for Leah to give the women a tour of the house. The walk through allowed Rosalie to see everything for the first time, Alice to see rooms they'd not ventured into during her visit, and the mothers to see what the house looked like lived-in. Bella's mother – she had learned – had helped Mrs. Newton with some of the decorating, and had accompanied Bella's things when they'd been brought from the Governor's mansion.

Her mother-in-law made comments on several of the personalizing touches Bella had made, which pleased the young woman and set most of her worries to rest. Holding her breath as Michael's mother ran her fingers along the edge of a lamp table in the corridor outside she and Michael's bedroom, Bella hid her smile as Karen rubbed her still-clean fingers together, humming approvingly.

"You have a fine home, darling." Renée was nearly glowing, and Bella took the hand Alice extended to her, giving it a squeeze as her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I should agree." Nodding graciously, Karen smiled. "I'm quite pleased with everything I've seen, Isabella."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Bella felt warmth in her chest, and she searched for Leah's gaze, offering praise and thanks for the housekeeper's dutiful upkeep of the home.

The ladies ended in the parlor, where Alice and Rosalie insisted Bella play piano for them. After awhile, thoughts of the would-be-doctor she so desperately wished to befriend where pushed behind laughter and singing, and Bella lost herself to the feel of her fingers along ivory.

Too soon, the men rejoined them, and shortly after Bella found herself at Michael's side, saying the day's goodbyes.

"Everything was lovely, Bella." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Bella's mother cupped both of her cheeks in her hands. "I'm very proud of you, darling. You'll come by and visit Wednesday, yes?"

"Wednesday morning, after breakfast." Michael was shaking her father's hand, and Bella leaned in to hug him after. "Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything."

Governor and Mrs. Swan both smiled, and after hugs and goodbyes from the rest of their guests – she agreeing to come by Jasper and Alice's on Monday; to visit, and for the pedestrianism that Jasper had not forgotten – Bella watched as one-bye-one each of their relatives' carriages drove away.

"You, Isabella Newton, were perfect today." Michael's hand was warm where it wrapped around hers by her side, and Bella leaned against him, allowing the day's tiredness to catch up with her.

Sighing, she murmured her thanks, catching the sight of burnt-orange hair in her periphery.

"Michael…would it be alright if I went and scheduled the carriage for my trip to Jasper's myself?"

Seeming to understand, Michael consented, and with a cupped hand to the back of his head, Bella made her way down the porch stairs and towards the carriage house.

She found Edward by his door, where he stood with his arms crossed – apparently having noticed her. She expected to find annoyance written across his face, but as was his usual greeting, he curled one side of his mouth up in a smile as she approached.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." Brushing a strand of hair from his face, Edward shrugged apologetically. "My hat's inside."

"Oh goodness, Edward." Waving a hand in dismissal, Bella brought the other to her neck, finding courage in the familiar feel of her fingers at her throat. "I just wanted to request a carriage for tomorrow, late morning. I'll be going to the Whitlock's, for lunch and visiting, and I hope to leave here around 11:30 - if that suits with what Sam has scheduled for you."

Dipping his hands into the pockets of his pants, Edward nodded, "No matter, Ma'am. You're my first priority, and Sam knows it. If you wish to leave at 11:30, I'll have the carriage waiting."

"Yes, well. Thank you, Edward." Wanting for words, Bella sighed. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

Edward nodded again, shifting on his feet. Recognizing his discomfort, Bella wished for Jasper's eloquence or Alice's boldness. She could see Angela through a window across the yard, and suddenly longed for evening when she could have a moment with her friend. Making to head back to Michael, she paused when Edward cleared his throat.

Turning her head, she caught the sight of Edward's tongue wetting his lips, the latter that were set in an unsettled line. Heat rushed to her face, and she averted her gaze, letting them linger on the brick behind him.

"Did your dinner go well?" His voice had lowered slightly, and Bella took a breath, returning her gaze to his face, but meeting his eyes. She could see his jaw working, muscles clenching just beneath the skin.

He was making conversation.

"I- Yes." Laughing nervously, Bella smiled widely. "I really think it did. My mother-in-law seemed pleased, and everything went very well. Thank you for asking." The line of Edward's lips smoothed, and Bella watched his eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiled. "Did you have a nice afternoon?"

"Yes Ma'am, thank you." Scratching at his shoulder, Edward looked towards Bella's house. "I met Mr. Brandon's driver, James, and showed him around a bit. Then, well, my father sent me home with a book after my visit on Friday, so I read a bit of that before helping ready the carriages for your guests' departure."

Not wanting to press the happy event of his more relaxed speech, Bella refrained from asking what book it was he'd brought home, offering instead, "That sounds nice, Edward."

They stood in a pregnant silence, Bella watching as Edward's shirtsleeves billowed lightly – as did her skirts – in the early evening breeze. She could see shadows creeping around the edges of the house as sunset sent word of its imminent arrival.

"Well, I'd better be going inside. Miss Sue sent me over some supper, and I've got it heating on the stove. Have a good evening, Mrs. Newton." Edward's eyes searched her face, and Bella stepped back.

The urge to wrap her arms around the man in front of her was so strong her muscles near to ached with the effort of moving away from him.

"You do the same, Edward. Enjoy your supper."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"You're welcome. Goodnight, Edward." Holding her breath as her feet carried her towards her own home, Bella listened for his reply.

"Goodnight…"

As his voice faded, the faint lilt of his accent giving his 't' a rounded edge, Bella had never been happier for the absence of her name.

* * *

**A/N**: First off, a huge thank you to Nicky at **www [dot] his golden eyes [dot] com**, for listing this story on her Fanfic Friday post. You and your review are absolutely lovely, Nicky, and the traffic that your recommendation has generated blows my mind. Anyone else who has rec'd this story; I send you a virtual cookie and my thanks as well!

Second, I'm very sorry this update is so late. I'm sure I'm not the only author who's hiding behind finals, real life, and the holidays, but I do hope to update more regularly now that the New Year is here. Thanks to every one of you who have reviewed and/or added this story and/or me to your favorites/alerts. I appreciate each notice in my inbox and every comment greatly! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and your holidays! Happy New Year!


	6. Chapter 5

To **noctems**, **vanilladoubleshot**, and **windtrails, **thank you for being there as I tread through the difficulties of real life, and for listening to me ramble, encouraging me when I want to scrap everything, and for your faith and support as I write. Thanks also for helping to keep me in the _Victorian Era_, and for reining in my comma splices and my other often-questionable punctuation/grammar. I'm going to owe you all big time by the end of this… To **contreplongee**, for her long-suffering and her love - not just of me but also of these silly characters.

**Disclaimer**: I just bought some half-price DVDs, so I can add those to the list of things I own. Unfortunately for my college fund, I can't add anything recognizably Twilight.

***

"Do you need anything before I help Rachel with the linens, Bella?" Righting one of the daguerreotypes that appeared to be out of place on the mantel, Angela sought Bella's gaze from where the older woman had draped herself across the chaise longue in the parlor.

"I'm fine; thank you, Angela." Smiling, Bella motioned to the stationery on the desk to her right. "I'm going to set about writing some letters soon. If I need you, I'll find you."

Angela left with a nod of her head, and Bella let her thoughts wander, musing on the things she wished to write to her friend Kate in France.

The weeks following she and Michael's first Sunday dinner had passed in a whirlwind of new experiences and growing familiarity for Bella. She was pleased at the way her life fell into an enjoyable daily routine, not even minding the mundane tasks, for she found herself growing quite fond of her staff. Writing up menus proved far more entertaining when doing so from a chair in the breakfast nook, where she could both see and hear Sue and Emily in the kitchen as they mirthfully went about their duties.

Emily, to Bella's observance, was not only beautiful to look at, but also companionable and pleasant. The older woman - whom Bella assessed to be about Rosalie's age - was full of stories, and Bella learned much of the men in her husband's service through Emily's affectionate retellings. Sue was gregarious and motherly – often running a smoothing hand over the concentration lines across Bella's forehead as she wrote her lists and menus - and it was easy to see that she saw to it that each of the staff were taken care of. She frequently sent meals to Edward at the carriage house, and Bella had noticed others taking meals to their respective quarters, though each small servant house employed a stove.

Angela had taken to Sue quite quickly, and Bella was glad for it. While she knew Angela was happy in her home, she also knew the quiet girl missed the constant warmth of her parents and younger brothers. Bella brought her along on her weekly Wednesday visits to the Governor's mansion, and arranged for her sweet friend to spend Saturday evenings there as well. One of her father's many servants delivered Angela to her again on Sunday afternoons after Church, and Bella delighted in the bright smiles that always accompanied her return.

On Sunday mornings Leah attended to Bella, and Bella was pleased to require the other woman's company. She'd flushed repentantly when confronted with her behavior regarding Angela, insisting that she'd no ill will for the girl, she simply lacked the ease for company that the younger girl exuded. Sue had affirmed her daughter's confession, assuring Bella that Leah was a homebody, having had no compulsions to seek companionship outside the staff she'd grown up with, and her family. Bella understood fully, having only Kate to speak of as a childhood friend apart from her cousins, Jasper and Angela, and members of the Governor's staff. Had Alice not befriended her first, Bella was quite sure she'd have never sought Kate's company on her own.

Leah'd promised to make amends, and had done so promptly. It was not uncommon to find Leah, Rachel, and Angela – as the unmarried female staff - taking meals together now, and Bella had come to learn the laugh lines around the older woman's eyes were well earned.

As well as the in-house staff, Bella made a point of getting to know some of the male workers about the grounds. Young Seth took her on a tour of her own gardens, pointing out various flowers and enlightening Bella on the importance of sunlight and soil temperature when plotting a successful piece of gardening land. His father Harry was head gardener, and it was not unusual to find Seth meandering about with the older man when he was not at work with Sam and the others in the stables or around the property. He spoke with great enthusiasm, and Bella genuinely enjoyed his exuberance.

Harry was equally as zealous when it came to anything grown in the earth, and Bella decided she rather liked the genial old man. He was insufferable when it came to teasing "his boys," as he called Sam and the entire lot of men and boys who maintained the grounds and property, and Bella quickly learned of his fondness for practical jokes. Inasmuch as Sue took on role of staff mother, her husband took on that of staff father.

Sam was a good-natured man, and Bella found him agreeable to talk to. He was knowledgeable in just about every subject she could think of, and the few questions she'd stumped him with he'd found answers for. He took his responsibility as grounds keeper seriously, and it was clear that he was well respected. Bella quite liked him, and it warmed her heart to see that he'd befriended Edward.

Aside from getting to know the people who worked for her, getting to know her husband was something else entirely. Discovering who she was as a wife, in and outside of Michael's presence, also proved an interesting pastime.

Michael worked hard, both from his study at home and in an office he took up in town near his father. Bella knew little more of his professional dealings than she had before their marriage, though he had offered some explanation one evening over supper. While finding it interesting that he would be required to make occasional trips to Europe, as well as domestic trips to and from New York, Bella felt no need to understand the details of his work. She knew enough to speak of him with the knowledge and pride necessary in public company, and that – to her opinion – was enough.

Michael was eager to please, and Bella smiled at the thought of his cheerful disposition. He was considerate and thoughtful, and though Bella knew he suffered her notions on dealing with those in their hire, he found no harm in allowing her the familiarities she desired.

She was learning how to respond to his playful banter, and Bella had begun to look forward to evenings with him in the parlor. Some nights he would ask her to play piano while he read quietly to himself, other times he requested that she read aloud to him while he wrote letters and notes. He was quick to bestow compliments, and Bella had come to expect his hand warm at the small of her back whenever they had cause to stand or walk side by side.

Overall, Bella believed her marriage to be more than she expected given the anxieties she'd harbored before and even after the wedding. Waking up to Michael beside her still caught her off guard on some mornings, but she had grown more familiar with his weight above hers on the evenings when he took his pleasure; his hands fisted in the nightgown about her waist and palmed around her breast below her neckline.

Face warming at her thoughts, Bella cleared her throat, taking in the parlor around her. She and Michael had sat for a new daguerreotype – the one that Angela had righted before taking her leave – and Bella stared at it for a moment before moving to sit at the desk.

How long she'd sat lost in her own mind, she wasn't sure, but as she uncapped her pen, dipping it in the ink well to begin her letter to Kate, the movement of the morning shadows across the parlor floor - signifying the onset of afternoon - did not escape her attention.

She wrote to her friend of all the thoughts she'd pondered, adding some lines in French for her own amusement and no doubt to the would-be chagrin of the brunette currently keeping residence in Paris. She wrote also of the Charity Society, knowing that the other woman would be pleased to hear of her volunteerism.

The passing weeks had given her opportunity to become better acquainted with the other ladies, and after some deliberation, it was decided that Bella would work alongside Esme for a time. As director, as it were, of the society, Esme took part in all various goings on, and though Bella'd expressed interest in working with women or children, Esme felt it best that she experience all areas of service before committing to just one.

After the supper the Cullens had attended at her home, Bella couldn't begrudge the genteel lady her decision. Having spent the better part of that evening listening to Dr. and Mrs. Cullen speak of their love for society's downtrodden – class be damned, pardon their vulgarity – Bella had taken great interest in the opportunity to spend time alone with Esme.

Thus far – as Bella wrote to Kate – she'd helped to take inventory of all the donated items the Charity Society had received since the beginning of summer. A task that had taken several full days, old winter petticoats and shawls; shoes that had seen little wear, just enough that men and women of social standing would no longer suffer them; boiler hats with the satin or felt ripped on the inside; men and women's gloves, missing their complements or stained, such were the items that Bella entered into a log for Esme.

Even such trinkets as broken fountain pens – of no value or re-giving worth – and Waltham pocket watches with hands that had long since stopped telling time, were recorded for posterity. Knowing a local horologist specializing in watchmaking, Carlisle collected the pocket watches with the hopes that even factory working men could boast a Waltham in their ragged Sunday best.

She'd accompanied Esme on two visits to elderly, widowed shut-ins, during which she'd faced the up-close realities that faced many who were far removed from her own social station. The stench in one home – a squat apartment that was little more than a closet with a rudely fashioned stove, a pallet to sleep on, and an overused chamber pot – caused her eyes to water, and had it not been for the perfumed handkerchief that Esme had discreetly pressed into her trembling hand, Bella feared she'd have emptied her stomach on the old woman's dirty floor.

"_How does she live in such a manner?" Bella asked of Esme, well out the elderly woman's range of hearing._

"_It's hard to understand, I know. Think though, Bella, of the meager life Widow Siebert would be living had she not the provisions she does. She's nearly blind in both eyes, if you did not take notice. Perhaps as her sight waned her olfactory perceptions left her as well. We cannot know for sure, but we mustn't pity her. She does the very best – and with great pride – that she can."_

Bella _had_ noticed the milky white film covering the widow's eyes, and though doing her best to hold her hands – and thus the handkerchief – near her nose at all times, she'd felt the way the old woman's hands had traced the back of hers, as if learning Bella's story through the pale, smooth skin there.

Feeling her stomach churn unpleasantly at the memory of the visit to Widow Siebert, Bella chose to write little of those details to Kate.

Setting her pen down so she could stretch her cramping fingers, Bella stole a glance out the window beside the desk. The sun was now full in the center of the sky, and she knew that Edward would be with Sam out to pasture with the horses. Worrying her lower lip, Bella pressed her hands one last time into the firm bone of the corset beneath her pale green bodice, before allowing her thoughts to linger, at last, on the man who'd finally allowed her some leisure into his more casual acquaintance.

Bella had succeeded in gathering information about the young man from Esme, up until such time as she asked questions about his family and his truncated university attendance. With a warm smile and a shake of her head, Esme refused to delve into Edward's life beyond what Bella'd already known from her father and father-in-law.

Edward had relaxed noticeably in her presence, but Bella was still quite aware of a remaining air of formality to their friendliness. He indulged her and her queries about carriage driving and horse maintenance, even consenting to her company a few times as he leaned against the fence posts to watch the horses in the afternoon before dinner. He would ask questions about her visits and her work, smiling and humming agreeingly as she prattled on in response. His laugh was clear, and his eyes – so she was beginning to realize - spoke volumes when his voice was silent.

Bella was learning him, just as she was learning the others.

Looking down at her letter, Bella brought one hand to her mouth, tracing the lines of her languid smile with the tips of her non ink-smudged fingers. She heard Angela's quiet footsteps just moments before the light rush of air from her attendant's arriving presence tickled the fine curls at the back of her neck.

"It's nearly time for dinner, Bella." The younger girl smelled of soap and sunlight.

"Thank you, Angela. I've just about finished here, though I successfully managed to complete but a single correspondence." Determining to leave her nascent friendship with Edward from her writing, Bella jotted a few more lines in her small, loopy script, before signing it with a flourish. As expected, Angela laughed, and Bella leaned back into her chair, mindful to keep her stained fingers clear of the expensive material of her clothes.

"It's a lovely day for daydreaming. Perhaps your letter will carry some whimsy to its reader." Dancing her fingertips in an away motion, Angela squeezed Bella's shoulder.

"Perhaps! However, I fear this pen will no longer imbue any whimsy or feelings otherwise in any letters again." Flicking the overused fountain pen, Bella sat up, rubbing at the black on her hand.

"You've many other pens, Bella, all of which should be equally predisposed to story telling." Winking, Angela motioned toward the doorway. "I've already prepared a vinegar mixture to remove the ink."

"Of course you have." Smiling at Angela's assiduous nature, Bella stood to follow her from the room.

After successfully scrubbing the ink from her fingers with the vinegar mixture that Angela had readied for her, Bella soaked her hand in a bowl of hot water to remove the lingering pungent odor from her skin, before sitting down to dinner alone.

Having eaten her fill of the roast beef, boiled potatoes, wax beans, and bread Emily had served, Bella dismissed herself from the table; curtsying to her invisible dining partners. Sam's voice echoed from the kitchen as she made her way across the room to take her leave. Overhearing that Edward was tending to the last of the horses before taking his meal, Bella paused to reach for an apple from the ever-stocked bowl near the window; a stop by the stables at the beginning of her afternoon walk seemed in order.

Parasol in one hand, bright red apple in the other, Bella strolled leisurely in the direction of the stables. Seth lifted his hat in greeting as he ran past her when she rounded the stable's corner to the wide horse entrance, and Edward's laughter carried to her ears moments before he came in focus before her.

"Good afternoon, Edward."

"Good day, Ma'am!" He exclaimed, still laughing as he removed the horse's halter. Creating a loop in the lead and slipping it over its head, he tied the other end in a loose knot around a stall post within drinking distance of a large barrel of water.

"What has Seth in such spirits? He nearly overturned me just now." Closing her parasol under the stable roof and leaning it against the wall, Bella watched as Edward bent to run his hands up and down the horse's hind legs.

"I told him I'd teach him how to properly gee and haw a carriage horse." Looking up at her, Edward smiled. "What brings you by the stables this afternoon?"

"I brought the horse an apple." Holding the apple out to him, with the raise of an eyebrow Bella dared the young man in front of her to argue her reasoning. Knowing it was rather poor, Bella added, "I also wanted to remind you that tomorrow is Tuesday."

"Tuesday appears to be a weekly phenomenon." Edward straightened to full height, resting an arm out along the horse's back. "What is the importance of Tuesday, again?"

"I do believe you're teasing me." Waving the apple a bit, Bella felt as though her smile could very well split her face.

"I would never." Shaking his head, Edward gestured to her outstretched hand. "As far your apple, I am quite inclined to believe that this horse would rather receive her gift from your own hand, not mine."

"I couldn't possibly feed this animal." Eyes widening, Bella stepped back, glancing down to be sure her skirts were not in danger of brushing into anything.

"Holly is a good horse," Edward assured, moving to stand near her head, "I'll stand right beside you to insure your safety."

"Edward, Holly, as you called her, is many times the size of my person, even with these many skirts I'm wearing."

"Yes, Holly; she has a dark design across her muzzle, bearing a striking resemblance to a leaf from a holly plant." Edward beckoned Bella forward, "I promise she won't hurt you. Come now, Mrs. Newton."

"I really don't-" Bella was silenced by Edward's hand on her arm, pulling on her gently before letting go. "Edward…"

"The beauty of a horse is something that every person should experience firsthand." His eyes were piercing and Bella felt herself move forward.

"Yes, yes. Alright." Clearing her throat, Bella brought her free hand to her neck. "What if she bites my fingers off?"

"Forgive me, Ma'am, but that apple is far more appetizing to Holly than your fingers."

"Show me how?" Bella held her in front of her awkwardly. She'd never stood this close to a horse before, not without the security of harnesses and saddles and reins.

Plucking the apple from her grasp, Edward gently turned her hand so her palm was facing upward. "Keep your hand flat like this, and your fingers together." Waiting for her nod of acknowledgment, Edward wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "Are you ready?"

"Yes?" More of a question than an answer, Bella breathed her response as Edward drew her arm forward, placing the apple on the center of her palm. Dropping her free hand from her neck to her abdomen, Bella gasped as Holly's lips curled upward to reveal big, square teeth. She hardly had time to react before the fruit had disappeared from her hand, a wet spot from the horse's mouth remaining.

"I told you that you'd keep your fingers." Releasing her wrist from his grasp, Edward touched her palm with his thumb. "You can pet her; I'm certain she's pleased to make your acquaintance."

As if in agreement, Holly whinnied, turning her head to nuzzle Bella's arm. Worrying her bottom lip, Bella glanced at Edward's face. He was watching her with a smile, his eyes lit with amusement and something Bella couldn't define. Bringing her hands tentatively to either side of Holly's jaw, Bella took a step closer to the animal.

"Thank you for not eating my fingers." She whispered, running her left hand up to rub against Holly's muzzle. "I appreciate your consideration greatly." Tracing the holly pattern that indeed decorated the horse's face, Bella watched as Edward moved to rub down the beast's front legs before opening the stall door and leaning backwards against it.

The stable was quiet for a time, the sounds of Holly's contented sniffing and her hooves dragging across the dirt almost echoing in the open space. Bravery increasing as the moments ticked by, Bella ran her hands down the horse's neck - over the lead line - to its well-defined shoulder.

Holly whinnied again, and feeling the rolling of taut muscle beneath her touch, Bella marveled at the strength and power bridled in the animal before her. She knew then that Edward was right; this sort of majestic beauty had to be experienced. Resting her forehead against the horse's neck, Bella sighed.

"I knew that she'd bewitch you." Edward had untied Holly's lead from the stall post, and Bella moved so he could slip it off her neck. Guiding the mare into the stall with a pat at her hip, he latched the door before once again leaning back against it.

"I've never been so close to a horse before; I've never had any interest in them other than for transportation's sake." Bella watched as the animal in question turned about in her stall.

"They're intelligent and fastidious creatures." Lifting his hat to scratch at the top of his head, Edward took a deep breath. "I see their allowing us to bridle them as an exhibition of kinship."

Averting her eyes to meet Edward's, Bella held his gaze. "Edward, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He cocked his head to the side.

"What is it that changed your mind about our being friends?" Clasping her hands in front of her, Bella noticed a twitch in Edward's jaw.

"Are we friends, Mrs. Newton?" His reply.

Looking away, Bella suddenly felt foolish. She'd no explanation for the draw she felt to Edward's presence. She was happy to make new friends, the disinterest from her childhood giving way to the desire to feel significant to people outside familiar obligation, but there was something about the quiet and gentle man she met in Edward that set him apart. Something about him called to her interest much as the sirens she'd learned of, calling to sailors out at sea. Perhaps she was wrong in assuming he shared such an interest in her as well – if any interest at all.

Edward's silence felt as if it lasted for centuries, until finally, he spoke.

"Excuse me, that was very rude. I apologize." Stepping toward her, Edward buried his hands in the pocket of his trousers. "I would like us to be friends, Ma'am, but you must realize that I'm first and foremost in your husband's employment. There is a certain amount of respect that's due a lady of your position; even more so as you are the wife of the man who pays my salary."

"I do realize that, Edward, I do." Furrowing her brow, Bella sighed. "I simply do not see any of the men and women in my service as only servants. I find great pleasure in being friends with many of you, and that is all the respect I feel I need. You're men and women with great insights; I only want to know you, and your thoughts. I know that I'm naïve to many things outside of the protection of my social circle, but from my childhood I've longed to learn. I yearn to be more than a Governor's daughter and a businessman's wife, though I do not begrudge my being either. To me, you're no different than Mr. Newton, or Mr. Whitlock, or even the Governor himself; the only difference is a title, Mr. Masen."

Bella felt the flush of her cheeks after her speech, and would have found herself quite embarrassed if it were not for the admiration written across Edward's face.

"You do me a great honor by holding me in the esteem of men such as your father. Thank you." Tilting his head back to study something on the ceiling, Edward brought both hands to his chest. "I enjoy your company, Miss. I do not wish to keep away from you." He offered.

"And I enjoy yours, Edward. Will you never address me by my name?" Bella implored.

"There may come a day when I use your Christian name, Ma'am. Allow me the time it takes for me to find peace in doing so?" Head bowing in question, Edward met her gaze before directing it behind her.

"Miss Bella?" Sam spoke, and Bella turned.

"Sam, is everything alright?" She asked. The look shared between the two men did not escape Bella's attention.

"Yes Ma'am, everything is fine." Lifting his hat, Sam turned back to Edward. "Sue has dinner waiting for you. I came to see if there was a problem with the horse; you've been seeing to her for quite some time now."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Sam. Mrs. Newton brought Holly an apple, I suppose we lost track of time. I'll wash up and go in for dinner now." Excusing himself, Edward took his leave casting an apologetic glance in Bella's direction.

"I wager you're Holly's favorite now." Sam grinned, "Apples are her favorite treat."

"Yes, she seemed to like it very well." Smiling in return, Bella retrieved her parasol and made to exit the stable. "I think I'll have my walk now, if you'd excuse me."

Sam nodded and Bella quit the stable hurriedly, keeping with her quicker pace until she was winded and far enough away – near the property's edge - to be hidden from anyone's sight.

Dropping her parasol and pressing her hands, in fists, against the corset that dug painfully into her heaving ribcage, Bella swallowed thickly. Nothing about the interaction that Sam had interrupted was questionable in nature, but chagrin burned red across her cheeks just the same. Feeling her caged lungs take in air more comfortably, she set out for the gardens, hoping to lose her cares amidst the beauty there.

It was there that Michael found her, with a collection of – ironically named – Hollyhocks in her lap.

"Isabella, here you are." Ambling up beside where she sat, Michael let his hand hover near the back of her head before returning it to its place in his pocket.

"Oh, Michael!" Startled, Bella felt her fingers curl around one of the deep-purple flowers.

"I did not intend to sneak up on you," Michael smiled, motioning questioningly at the empty space beside her on the bench.

"Please, sit." Smiling in return, Bella adjusted her skirts discreetly. "How was your day? I never even heard you return home."

"The day passed without excitement, so I'd say it went rather well. I spoke with Dr. Cullen today; I happened to come upon him at the bank." Crossing his arms, Michael continued, "He mentioned that Mrs. Cullen will be taking you along to the orphanage tomorrow; apparently the children are very excited to meet you."

At his revelation, Bella felt her smile grow. "How wonderful! I have been so looking forward to meeting them as well."

"Yes, I told the doctor as much. He and his wife are both rather fond of you, I believe. I'd say that you've made quite the impression on them." There was pride in Michael's tone, and Bella bowed her head humbly.

"I'm quite fond of Esme as well, and I'm sure the more I get to know the doctor, I will like him just the same." Bringing one of the flowers to her nose, Bella inhaled the sweetness of its scent.

"I'm sure. How was your day, Izzie? I'm sorry that you were unable to visit with Jasper and Alice as per usual on Mondays."

Jasper had claimed Monday for his own, much to Bella's delight, and her visits tended to extend from late morning far into the afternoon to include Alice as well. Jasper had sent word first thing that her cousin was feeling a bit under the weather, and the day's visit had been canceled to allow her some rest.

"I was sad to miss our visit, but I was able to write a letter to Kate, which I'd been meaning to do for days now. I also fed one of the horses."

"You were with the horses?" Leaning forward slightly, Michael raised an eyebrow, "Why on Earth would you want to spend time in the stables? I have men and boys who take care of the horses; in fact, I pay them quite generously to do so."

"Oh, I know. I stopped by to remind Edward about my carriage for tomorrow, and I took an apple for the horse." Brushing a fingertip across the soft petals in her hand, Bella smiled at the memory of the soft warmth of Holly's muzzle.

Michael remained quiet for a moment, and Bella looked up to find a curious look on his face and an uncharacteristic frown tugging at his mouth.

"I have a feeling that Edward – by this time – has your weekly schedule committed to memory, Isabella." Uncrossing his arms, Michael leaned forward further, sighing discontentedly. "I don't like the idea of you distracting the help while they're meant to be working."

"But I wasn't distracting." Her rebuttal escaping her lips before she could think about the tone she was taking h her husband, Bella met his gaze. "Edward doesn't mind if I visit sometimes. Just as Sue does not mind if I sit in the kitchen while she's cooking. I like observing, and talking with him."

"It is one thing to be in the kitchen with the women, and quite another to be out in the stable with a man." Eyes softening at the question in his wife's eyes, Michael reached to rest a hand on her shoulder. "You know I find your fondness of the staff endearing, Izzie, I find them all to be agreeable myself; but I'm going to make it clear that I do not approve of your spending time alone with the unmarried men."

"I am alone with Edward nearly every day, Michael." Bella pointed out, referring of course to her carriage travel.

"Please do not make this difficult; you know the type of fraternization of which I am speaking, Isabella." Standing, Michael brushed at the back of his suit. "I am not suggesting your behavior is reproachable, but it is improper. That you spend hours alone with a married man is enough. I must insist that you honor my wishes in this."

"Jasper is my best friend." Bella felt a rush of irritation swirl in her belly. "He is practically my brother; you can hardly find my spending time with him uncomfortable."

"Forgive me for upsetting you, I spoke out of turn in regards to Jasper. However, I do not want to hear of more stable visits to feed horses." Michael's words held a tone of finality, signaling the end of their discussion.

"As you wish." Bella sighed, tears prickling the back of her throat. "I was unaware that your feelings were so strong on the matter, or I assure you I would have respected them."

"All is well." Michael smiled, no doubt trying to assuage any guilt Bella felt. "Come into the house now, Izzie, and have Angela help you change before supper; it would be unpleasant to have the smell of toast challenged with that of a horse."

Bella stood, slipping her arm into Michael's. As they walked towards their house, she keeping her eyes clear with thoughts of the orphans she would meet the following day, Bella felt something sticky on her palm. Opening her hand, she looked down to see a purple smear across her skin.

She had crushed the petals in her fist.

* * *

**AN**: As always, thank you for reading and for all the alerts! I have gotten some of the most amazing reviews and PM's - you all make my day. : )

If you're so inclined, I just got a twitter account. You can follow **_lemouli****n** for general silliness, and story updates.


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